“That’s why they prefer you, sir,” she told Eddie. “Not that I share their sentiments. If you don’t mind, I’d like to know why you’re here.”

“I’m not sure you’d really like that, miss.” Eddie had felt a certain compassion for her on the day he stole the watch. As it turned out, he felt an unexpected concern for her even now.

“Women shouldn’t know too much? I take it that’s your point. It might affect their brains or, worse, their reproductive organs? You spoke to me once as if I were an equal when you told me to shut up, please do me the same courtesy now. And call me Juliet.”

Eddie was won over by her candor. Still, he hesitated. He had come for justice, and justice didn’t always resolve as people wished. He’d brought along the photograph he’d taken at the gala, which he now withdrew from within his coat. “The man behind your brother. What do you know of him?”

“Frank Herbert?” Miss Block said. “He’s my brother’s employee.”

“Does your family have anything to do with the Triangle Shirtwaist Company?”

“My brother is an attorney. He may have done some work for them. I believe he did.” She gazed deeply at Eddie. “And the work was questionable, I presume.”

“What if it was murder?”

Juliet suggested they walk around the corner, to the park, so they might find privacy and speak more freely. They did so, and the dogs were overjoyed to find they were not being dragged in the direction of home. They took a path that led to the reservoir. There were many starlings and sparrows on the branches of the trees. “Welcome to the petting zoo of the wealthy,” Miss Block said bitterly. Once they had found a bench hidden by bushes, she took out a French cigarette and lit it, which surprised Eddie.

“Oh, stop looking at me that way.” She laughed. “You can’t be that easily shocked. I’ll do my part to help you get Herbert, and in exchange you’ll forget about my brother. In all honesty, Harry probably has no idea of his henchman’s methods. He says make it so, and it’s done.”

“It was a young woman that was killed, if that makes a difference to your opinions regarding your brother’s responsibility in the matter. She worked on the ninth floor at the factory, but it wasn’t the fire that did her in. She never made it to work that day because somebody murdered her. They sewed up her mouth with blue thread, then tossed her into the river.”

Juliet stared at him long and hard. “It matters to me very much, whether you believe me or not. But he’s my brother. My offer stands. I’ll give you Herbert, and in return, you’ll leave Harry alone.”

JULIET BLOCK was to inform Frank Herbert that her brother had given instructions for him to bring a file of information to a meeting in the alleyway behind Greene Street. Eddie would see to the rest. The hour was late, after workers in the nearby factories had gone home. Dusk was settling. It was murky enough so that Herbert could not see clearly when he turned off the street, yet he spied the slim figure of a young woman who found her way into the alley. He likely gritted his teeth, annoyed to see an interloper in the very place where he was to make a delivery of important papers to his employer. He didn’t like taking orders from a woman, and had felt humiliated being told what to do by Miss Block, who, in his opinion, thought much too highly of herself, as if she was a man’s equal. He had his bully stick with him, and he didn’t mind issuing a threat or two to a stranger, then acting on those threats if need be. But before he could chase off the figure before him, Herbert took note of something odd. The girl in the alleyway looked familiar. Her pale hair plaited into braids, her girlish blue coat. It was the dimness surely, only a trick of the shadows, yet Frank Herbert hesitated, unsure. Quite possibly, the thing before him was not human in nature. Then, thinking himself ridiculous, he moved toward her. “Go on,” he said with menace in his tone. “This is no place for ladies.”

She looked at him fully. “Neither is the river.” The young woman opened her hands. There were the buttons she’d pulled from his coat when she struggled with him.

“Get on with you,” he said, confused. He took her now to be the girl he’d had to get rid of. Somehow she had returned from the river and found him. She had torn the blue thread from her lips to speak to him.

“I have your buttons,” she told him. “From when you killed me.”

He stepped forward, his club at the ready. “If you’re a ghost, then you won’t die again, though it was easy enough to kill you the first time.”